


Don't Pull That Trigger

by paradisedreams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - War, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:10:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradisedreams/pseuds/paradisedreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Harry is a flower child in the 1970s and Louis is a cop turned soldier during the Vietnam War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Pull That Trigger

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this plot in English and I had to write it. Ignore the historical and medical inaccuracies. Dates are added to keep the story in order, so pay attention to those.
> 
> Also a lot of people helped me with this since I would get stuck so much, but MY BIGGEST helper/beta was Alexa (@louistthebrave). I honestly would’ve NEVER finished this with out her. She was literally there every step of the way giving me help and advice. She’s responsible for some of the concepts and major parts in this, so yeah she’s amazing and thank you so much.

April 19, 1972

 

Harry couldn’t remember a time when war didn’t exist. His lifespan was consumed by war. Born in 1955, the Vietnam War had just begun, and now at the ripe age of 17 it seemed that it wouldn’t end anytime soon. He remembers fleeing his small farming town in Kansas at 14 to do something with his life, but escaping those war-loving bastards did settle his thoughts. That’s how he ended up here, in San Francisco, at his college campus’ anti-war rally on April 19, 1972.

 

“Okay here’s the plan. See those crummy guards over there?” the rally leader spoke to the group of eager students, “Take your signs and those flowers and show them peace before war. Don’t be violent unless they get violent with you,” he finished as everyone took their positions.

There was a large turnout of students fighting for the cause. Harry noticed that even some of his professors were there showing their passionate sides. Harry’s sign read “fighting for war is like fucking for virginity” and he had flowers sporadically placed throughout his dark curls and nestled on top of his ear. “HELL NO WE WON’T GO” the mob shouted in a mantra. The minutes passed, the crowd grew, the press came, and so did the police. With the draft in place for many years now, most of the cops doubled as soldiers, which added to their intimidating stature. Harry knew there was no backing down. He trusted that his beliefs would get him through the protest. The guards encircled the mob of people, pushing and shoving them back towards the college. The crowd pushed back, erupting the rally into frenzy. Harry made his way to the front of the crowd, pumping his sign up and down in the air and chanting out towards the sky like his words alone could change the world.

“I’m going to need you to back up boy!” a voice yelled from below him, “back up! Back up!” he repeated over and over.

 The officer extended his arm to place his palm on Harry’s chest. The comparison of the tiny hand on his large chest made his breathe hitch, before he could even look down at the officer’s face.  Harry stilled, but didn’t back away. He shifted his face down to lock eyes with the officer in front of him. His heart stammered at who he saw. The officer’s fine brown hair was slightly matted to his forehead, his cerulean eyes reminded him of the clearest lakes back home, his face was dainty but rugged, his laugh lines creased his cheeks, but his lips were pursed in a tight line. Harry drowned in his own thoughts until another nudge shook him back to the present.

“Move. Back,” the man said again this time drawing his gun and nudging Harry’s chest once more.

Harry didn’t flinch. The man in front of him captivated him. He didn’t know this guy, but he was sure he wouldn’t hurt him. Harry didn’t move back nor speak. He simply removed the flower from behind is ear and placed it in the gun barrel. It seemed like time suspended itself in air. Tension loomed above both men. If Harry weren’t looking so closely, he would’ve missed the slight smile the officer fought from surfacing his face.

“You’re under arrest,” the officer spoke first, “What’s your name boy?”

“Harry Styles,” he answered not knowing what he had done, but he didn’t put up a fight as he was cuffed and thrown into the back of the police car before being whisked away.

 

 

Neither spoke a word the whole drive. Harry noticed a plate inscribed “Officer Louis Tomlinson” on the front. “Louis,” he thought, “such a pretty name for such a pretty face.” Maybe he stared a bit too long, since Louis was now glancing in the rearview mirror before he exited the car. Harry’s heart palpitated when he thought about being locked up in a jail cell, but it was too late. The back door jarred open and Harry stepped out. Louis took a hold of his arm as he casted his gaze down.

“Oh look up for Christ’s sake,” Louis softly said.

Harry slowly lifted his eyes to settle on the upscale apartment complex they pulled up to, “Oh, but this isn’t…” he started.

“I know just come on,” the officer began, leaving the boy still cuffed and leading the way to his apartment on the first floor. Louis searched for the key to unlock the door, making sure Harry followed before shutting it. He scanned Harry’s tall lean figure, his green eyes wide, bright, innocent, comforting, and curious, his brow is furrowed and the flowers still nestled into his curls. Louis knew he had to have him as soon as he saw him. Louis was much more scared than Harry knew. He thought maybe Harry was fearless, and together that could be something beautiful. Something he needed to allow himself to go through with what he was going to do. He thought he had his mind made up about the whole thing, but when it came down to it Louis was scared, and he couldn’t hide it.

“Louis,” Harry whined tugging at the cuffs, “what are you doing? What am I doing here? I thought I was going to jail. I’m so…” he rambled.

Louis tuned him out, taking slow steps toward the boy. He barely came up to his shoulder. “Such broad shoulders,” he thought trying to fight the urge to grab them and yank the boy down to his lips. Harry’s rambling turned into white noise. Louis body turned onto autopilot and suddenly he was on his tiptoes, lips reaching for Harry’s. The officer quickly snapped back to reality and gently pressed his lips to the boy’s plump pair, which parted slightly in agreement. They booth stood there, exploring unknown territory with their tongues, before the clank of Harry’s cuffs signaled for more. Louis fidgeted with the keys and unlocked the cuffs, letting them fall to the ground. Harry’s hands made their way to the small of Louis’ back, pulling him in close, slightly lifting him off the ground. A whine crept up Harry’s throat, as Louis sucked on the boy’s bottom limp. “Bed please, want you,” the boy spoke picking up Louis and walking them aimlessly through the living room.

“Yeah…yeah take a right first door,” Louis breathed out, barely disconnecting their lips. Harry found the room quicker than he’s ever found anything in his life because _shit_ he didn’t know he wanted this, but now that it’s happening he thinks it’s all he ever wanted. He gently places Louis on the bed like he’s a porcelain doll that will shatter. He kicks off his shoes and socks before moving to the officer’s. He grips onto his thighs thinking they could be the greatest things he’s ever seen besides Louis face, or hands, or eyes, or fuck just Louis is the best thing he’s ever seen. Now he’s slowly rubbing his hands from his thighs up to his belt buckle, which he undoes and throws to the ground. He traces Louis’ curves with his hands, running them under his shirt, pulling it off of him and throwing it to the ground.  His chest is tan and his taut stomach is on display and Harry thinks his head might explode, so he presses kisses from Louis navel to his collarbone, where he sucks and bites to leave his mark because he think he wants this man to be his for awhile if not forever.

Louis’ breathing becomes shorter and uneven and his hands are running up Harry’s back trying to take his shirt off, which he succeeds in doing.  Louis sucks in air and his eyes leap out of his head when he sees that Harry’s body is covered in an array of tattoos. Birds, butterflies, a ship (he thinks), they’re all enchanting and the flowers from Harry’s hair are falling into Louis’ and suddenly Harry is overwhelmed at how beautiful the boy truly is. Louis reaches for Harry’s shoulders, moving himself on top of the boy. The strain in his pants becomes too hard to ignore and he needs them off now. Louis tugs his pants and briefs down simultaneously, causing Harry to whine and writhe underneath him. “Lou…your cock, want it so bad, fuck me please, please Lou,” Harry says in daze.

“Fuck,” he replies reaching for Harry’s waist and dragging his pants down his never-ending legs. Louis wonders how those long legs would look folded and bent up while he fucks into him. The thought makes his cock twitch against his stomach. He bends down and mouths at Harry’s clothed erection. He strokes up his length languidly and back down blowing hot heat on his cock through the thin fabric. It takes all of Harry’s will power to not shove his cock into Louis face, because _fuck,_ he was just being plain mean, and teasing was never something that Harry looked forward to. “Please,” his voice strains as Louis dug his thumb into his hip socket, pushing him back down to the bed.

“Patience Curly,” he smirks, yanking off his boxers and taking his cock into his mouth in one swift motion. Harry felt like his body had been hit with a blowtorch. The heat engulfed every inch of his skin. Louis licks a flat strip under his cock and tongues the slit while working the rest with this hand. With every lick and flick of the wrist Harry’s temperature leapt higher and higher. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn the bed was on fire. The heat was crowding his head. He knew he wasn’t going to last when he felt Louis’ nose bump his crotch and his cock hit the back of his throat. “Oh fuck,” he moans out watching the golden-boy’s cheeks hollow around his cock. Harry knew a lot of things, but he didn’t know that a boy’s cheekbones could look so beautifully defined around his dick, especially when he could feel that boy’s throat swallowing around him. Louis’ name spills from his mouth over and over like a prayer. He can feel the heat swelling in his stomach, “I,” he starts just as Louis pulls off his cock with a pop,  “fuck Louis please, fuck me, need you.”

“Okay baby,” he soothes, pushing back Harry’s hair and placing a few flowers back in his curls. “So beautiful,” Louis whispers to mainly himself while he fumbles in the dresser for lube and a condom. Seeing Harry’s flushed cock heavy on his stomach made his palms sweat and the tip of he ears ingnite. His lips were red and swollen from how hard he had been biting them.  Louis couldn’t take it any longer. He quickly pours some lube onto his pointer finger and sloppily traces Harry’s hole while tracing the roof of Harry’s mouth with his tongue. He presses his finger in to the knuckle, loosening up the boy beneath him,

“Gotta get you ready for my cock babe,” Louis said pushing his whole finger in, feeling the muscles tighten then relax at the entrance.

Harry keened, needing more, “ _moremoremore.”_

Louis got a second finger in, scissoring them, working Harry open. He earned an appreciative groan from the boy, which he captured with his mouth.

“Ready Lou, hurry please, please, need your cock so bad Lou please,” he begged.

“Ready for my cock babe? Gonna be a good boy for me? Gonna let me fuck you? Is that what you want?” Louis teased, reaching for the condom.

“Don’t…just fuck me. Yeah gonna be good for you. Want to feel you.”

“Well fuck ok, yeah,” Louis returned repositioning himself at Harry’s entrance slowly pushing himself in.

Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. The pain was minimal but Louis felt so good inside him he could’ve sworn he was born for this sole purpose, and maybe he found his calling in California after all, - to have Officer Louis Tomlinson inside of him. He’d be perfectly fine with that. He signaled for Louis to move by nodding his head, because at this point he wasn’t sure he could say anything besides _harder, Louis, fuck, faster, fuck, LouisLouisLouLouLou_.

“You look so pretty taking my cock,” Louis soothed throwing Harry’s gangly legs over his shoulders, “so gorgeous with your legs all bent and folded for me.”

“Mhmmmm,” Harry breathed bending his knees closer to him, so Louis could have better access.

Louis moved his hips at a slow pace, dragging all the way out before pushing back in. Slowly pounding into Harry, he made small whimpers escape the boy’s lips. He bent over to give him a chaste kiss and whisper “you ready?” Harry wasn’t sure what he was ready for, but if it involved Louis inside of him in any way he was sure he was ready and nodded to show that. Louis pulled back and braced his hands on either side of Harry’s body. He held eye contact with the boy, as he started pounding into him fervently.  “ _Fuckfuckfuck_ ,” he nearly shouted body rocking from the unexpected sensation.

Harry’s hair bounced around his head the flowers falling out in a halo. Louis kept his pace, angling up to hit Harry’s spot that would have him whining and whimpering for _moremoremore._ Louis watched the flower child’s face twist and turn, tighten and relax. He could see it. He could tell by the flush of Harry’s cheeks, the way his breathing was short and quick, how his abs flexed and relaxed, that he was wrecked and he was about to lose it. Louis took the boy’s cock and pumped it with his thrusts. On contact Harry’s eyes flew open to lock with Louis blown out pupils’ and a body shaking orgasm erupted throughout him. He was thoroughly fucked, mentally and physically. “Gonna look so pretty babe,” was the last thing he heard before Louis was shooting onto his face, lips, and eyelashes. Harry licked the cum off his lips and cheeks, while Louis wiped the rest off with his fingers, which Harry happily sucked clean.

Louis collapsed on top of the boy beneath him, unable to hold himself up any longer. His arms were feeble and his legs lay lifeless and exhausted. His mind was foggy, drunk off ecstasy, and racing through all the important events that happened in his life. Some where deep down he knew this was one of them. This simple hook up would change his life. This boy with the curls and the flowers in his hair and the passion and fire would fuel him in some way. Louis nuzzled in the nook of Harry’s shoulder, steadying his breathing. “Harry,” he said shakily, “how did you get here?”

So it began, and their lives somehow became one, and their minds were now intertwined like their limbs, wrapping around each other like vines. Harry spoke softly and evenly describing his life growing up, his war manic parents that brought on his hate for the thing, his studies at college, his dreams of living in a better world. Louis listened to the boy allowing his words to consume every inch of his mind. Not only was he beautiful, but also his soul was beautiful, his dreams were beautiful, and he knew he was nothing compared to that.

Louis avoided the topic of war. Yeah he was a cop, but he figured if he didn’t talk about the war maybe the fact that he was going would disappear. That maybe he would get the call saying he was exempt. That maybe the draft made a mistake, and it wasn’t his time to go. He thought Harry could give him the strength to go, but now Harry is the reason he needs to stay, “Harry…what if I said I was leaving….for awhile.”

Harry tried to keep his face expressionless, carding his fingers through Louis wispy hair, “I’d let you go,” he retorted. He knew what this meant. He knew what Louis meant when he said he was leaving. No one was safe from war. Harry knew that. Harry lived by that, but he thought that once maybe some one, especially some one so gorgeous could be safe from the beast.

“We’ll write, and you can stay here. Just promise me one thing,” Louis hesitated sitting up to lose himself in Harry’s eyes.

“Anything.”

“Just wait for me. No matter what, wait for me. I’ll make it back. I promise, I’ll make it back.”

 

June 27, 1972

It was rough. It was dark. It was rainy. It was cold. It was lonely. It was Louis alone in Vietnam. The past two months had been boring. No action. Every day it was from the fields back to the camp and repeat. It was driving him mad. He tried to keep his mind occupied. He didn’t need to think about the boy with the flowers every day. He didn’t need the vision of his flushed cheeks and euphonious whines plaguing his mind. He’d done a good job until today. Mail day. He said they would write, but Louis couldn’t muster up the courage. He didn’t think what he wanted to say could be said in a measly letter. He didn’t think everything he felt could be put into words, but of course Harry found a way.

 

_Dear Louis,_

 

_Just so you know I’ve been breaking your apartment in. Nice place you’ve got babe. It smells just like you. It reminds me of the last night we were here together. Remember the mess you made in the kitchen when you attempted to make those cookies for me. When I walked into the kitchen and you had flour all over your little nose, and I tried to help you but instead you just dumped the whole bag on me. I remember how your laugh rang through the house as I chased you around the living room trying to get payback. I remember when I finally got you and you didn’t even put up a fight once my lips were on yours._

_I don’t know where this is going, but I miss you. I miss you a lot. I couldn’t put off writing anymore. I can’t put off anything anymore really. I can’t ignore the nagging feeling that you’re not here. I can’t ignore the missing piece of me that only you can fill. I can’t ignore the fact that I’m sure I fucking love you. I wish every night that for some reason they’ll let you go, and you can come back to me. It’s so hard Louis, so hard for me, but then I think of you and how you feel in my arms, and how you make me feel, and I know that it’s worth it. Even though we didn’t have much time before you left, I know you’re someone I want forever. I know that some how in this fucked up world you’re the one thing that I know is right and okay._

_I could sit here and beg you to come home, but I know you have a job to do. It scares the shit out of me though. Turning on the TV scares me. Turning on the radio scares me. I can’t listen to the coverage of what’s going on in that shithole. I can’t hear about the casualties every day. It scares me so much that one day you could just be gone. That maybe one day I’ll hear “Officer Louis Tomlinson” listed off with the jumble of faceless names that are released at the end of the day. I hate thinking about that. The thought of me on this Earth without you on it too makes me sick. I know you promise you’d come back, but fuck Louis you don’t know that. You don’t know if you’ll make it back, or if you’ll make it back in one piece. You don’t know. Anything could happen. But one thing is for certain; no matter if you make it back or not, I’ll be here for you waiting. I’ll be here for you. I promised._

_Yours Always,_

_Harry x_

Louis didn’t know he was crying until he saw a tear hit the tattered paper. His hands trembled as he read and reread the note. He stayed in his bunk silent tears streaking his cheeks in a constant stream for the duration of the night. Harry’s letter didn’t break him. Harry’s letter made him know it was possible. It made him realize that no matter where he was the boy would always be with him. He had to do this. He had to make it out of here for Harry. Louis took hold of his strength, compassion, and bravery.

 

 

 

July 9, 1972

 

Harry had been waiting for this day. He’d been dreaming of this day. He figured a reply from Louis would settle his nerves. When the mail shot through the slot through the door, he sprinted to retrieve the lone letter.

 

_Dear Harry,_

 

_I don’t know how you do it, but you do. You give me everything I need to make it out of this place. All the things I lack, you instill in me. Stay strong for me because your strength is what powers me. There isn’t a day when you aren’t somewhere in my mind. I’m not going to lie. I try not to think about you, but every little fucking thing reminds me of you in some way. The other day we were out securing the perimeter. I look to my left a field of blooming flowers. I look to the right; I see the greenest field I’ve ever laid my eyes on. It might be the greenest and purest field on this planet. It was so simple and so beautiful, just like you. I remember when we first got together and those stupid flowers you had in your hair. At the time, I thought it was the eighth wonder of the world. If someone had told me that five years ago, I would’ve called bullshit. Your eyes, I think I miss them the most. They look into me. They break through the barrier I build. You always know what I’m feeling by just looking at me. You demolish the surface. You know more about me than I’m scared to admit myself. I feel safe in your eyes, and when I’m in those fields it’s like I’m in your eyes, and I know that I’m safe there._

_It’s like you’re a part of me out here. Every move I make, I do it with you in mind. Even though you’re against this war and every thing it stands for, I do all of this for you. I do it because I want our home to be safe. I want you to be safe just like you provide that safety for me. Harry, I don’t know, but this happened all so fast, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to say this again, so I’ll say it now. I love you. I love you so much and I wish I would’ve told you before I left, but fuck I was so scared. Being in this place has made me realize what fear really is. I realized I shouldn’t have had any fear when it comes to love. If you feel it, go with it. Don’t wait because you never know what moment will be your last. Harry, I’m done with waiting. I’m going to finish this thing out, and I’m going to do it fearlessly. I’m going to do it all for you, and I WILL come back. I will be back._

_Don’t be scared for me Harry. Stay fearless and brave. We’re getting sent out from the camp in a few weeks to go into the first battle. No matter what happens I will make it out. I will make it through. Don’t forget that Harry. Don’t forget the promise I made you. No matter what happens. I will be back._

_Forever Yours,_

_Louis xx_

 

January 28, 1974

 

“Move! Move! Move!” General Payne barked out, “Stay along the edge of the grass. Don’t move unless I say!”

Shit. They’d been on the run for about an hour now. The combat boots and the collecting sod beneath them weighed down Louis’ feet. The entire militia was panting and dragging behind the leader.

“Stop, duck, and quiet!” the General ordered.

Then he saw it, the rustling of the foliage from across the way. He could see the plants bustling back and forth. They kept low and silent and the first shot was released.

“GO GO GO.”

The entire militia of 30 rushed out of the bushes to meet the enemy. Louis ran, ducking and dodging oncoming attackers. He could hear his fellow soldiers dropping like flies behind him. BOOM. Thud. BOOM. Thud. BOOMBOOM. Thud. Thud. Thud. He didn’t stop. He kept going shooting and diving, jumping and swerving out of harms way, until he reached the edge of the field. There was nowhere he could go but back. He turned and came chest to chest with the enemy that had trailed him.

“Not so fast boy,” the Vietnamese taunted. Louis quickly jutted his elbow to the man’s jaw causing him to fall to the ground. The man reached out for Louis’ arm to drag him down, but Louis averted and reached for his gun. He jabbed the man in the gut with the blunt end of his weapon and flipped the gun over shoving the barrel into the man’s chest.

“Any last words?” Louis taunted thumbing the trigger. He was going to do this. He was going to kill. He locked eyes with the victim, and counted down in his head. 3….2….fuck. God fucking damnit. He couldn’t do it. Louis mind flitted back to the day he met Harry at the anti-war rally, and how his smile was chipper but his spirit was fierce. He remembered when he had his gun barrel against Harry’s chest, but he knew Louis wouldn’t shoot. He knew Louis wasn’t even thinking about shooting. Louis might have been in war, but he was no killer. He couldn’t live with that. By the time his inner monologue had consumed him he was on the ground under the enemy.

“Get up,” he commanded, “weak American boy,” he spat dragging Louis by the arm to the back a truck with the remaining 10 of his crew. They rode and rode and rode. They rode in the back of that cramped truck for about 2 hours before they were let out at a dingy camp like facility. The barbed wire enclosed a small parcel of land that they were pushed into. They were stripped of their weapons and supplies, and left with a bucket for peeing and a block of cement of sleeping. He was definite there was no way to escape. At least he wasn’t dead.

 

April 19, 1974

 

Two years. Two years since they met. Two years since Louis had left. Two years of letter collecting. Two years of love. Two years of fear. Two years of worry. Two years of the unknown. Two years of LouisandHarry and HarryandLouis.

 

Harry rummaged around the apartment in his sweats busying himself. He knew Louis was okay. Yeah he had to be. He promised. It’d been two months since Harry had sent his last letter to Louis. He knew he was busy, and he wasn’t at the camp, but two months is a really long time and Harry thought his head would implode. He padded over to the couch and plopped himself down flipping on the TV. He knew he shouldn’t have, but what else could he do. He had to clear his head. He had to know if Louis was okay.

 

“And in war news, 20 dead and 10 American captured soldiers in battle in Vietnam. No updates on their whereabouts or current status,” the announcer said as if she was speaking about the weekly weather. Harry felt his stomach twist in a knot. It sickened Harry. How could someone be so neutral to the situation? How could some one say something so horrific with such ease? Why did war have to be as common as the sun rising and setting? Fuck and Louis. He knew it. He knew he shouldn’t have been so naïve to think Louis would be okay out there. Louis tried to be invincible, though he was anything but. He was so soft, and fragile, and sweet internally. He could break so easily.

Harry felt the pressure dig into his temples. The weight of his stomach was unbearable. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t make it without Louis, but in that moment he made the choice to wait until the war was over. Luckily, he made that vow then and there because he might not make it another day if he didn’t. Harry’s legs were lead, sledging across the floor looking for a phone. He had to make a call he hadn’t made since he first showed up in this town. He couldn’t help himself anymore. If he couldn’t have Louis, he needed this.

“Zayn, it’s Harry…,” the phone trembled against his ear, “yeah how’ve you been man?”

“Same old same old. Need something?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Actually yeah. The usual. Um, where do I meet you?”

“The usual. At 9. Usual rate.”

 

It’s nine o’clock and Harry is leaning on the dumpster at the back of the coffee shop two blocks from the college. He sees Zayn slender figure come towards him, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“You okay man?” Zayn asks noticing Harry’s red-brimmed heavily bagged eyes, chapped lips bitten down to nothing, and almost translucent skin.

“Not really, but I will be,” he says to Zayn making the exchange.

Zayn puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder, searching his eyes for a plea for help, “Just be careful.”

“Always am.”

 

Yes this was it. This is the feeling Harry had been missing; the feeling of the needle breaking through the skin, the drug seeping into his bloodstream, and the sensation of the buzz spreading throughout his body. He felt himself climbing higher and higher and higher and higher and fuck he was at the top. He was floating and flying and nothing could bring him down. Not even Louis being gone, not even Louis possibly not coming back, nothing could take him down. He was king. He got what he wanted and right now he wanted to stay at the top.

 

 

 

January 25, 1975

 

For a while, Louis kept a mental track of the day’s he was captured, but now he was losing hope. Every day was taunting him, laughing at him, nagging at him, saying,  “Here’s another day you won’t be with Harry, and another, and another.” He frequently found himself pounding on his head as if it would make the thoughts stop.

“Number 7 it’s your turn!” one of the guards yelled from the doorway of their living quarters.

Every day since they’d been captured the enemy would torture them, even prisoners on one day, odds the next. He guessed today was an odd day. Louis used to put up a fight. You know, be fearless and all that. He’d try his best to resist, but what was the use when in the end he was getting tortured anyway. As the guard led him through the yard he wondered which tactic they’d use today: applying tourniquets to his arms with a parachute cord, putting leeches all over his body, letting the locals beat him with sticks and rocks. The options were endless.

“Strip and wait in this room,” the man said throwing Louis to the ground of a small square chamber.

Fuck. The leeches. Louis fucking hated getting the leeches. It was definitely the worst torture technique in his opinion. The way the insects just slithered all over his body, suckling on the skin trying to break through to the blood. The hairs on his skin heightened at the thought of the slimy creatures crawling all over him while he lay there defenseless. He shook the feeling from his head and began undressing -anything to get this over with quicker.

“Well isn’t this a site?” the head of the camp spoke, walking into the room, “loads of progress with you. We don’t have to drag the clothes off you now. Plus it looks much better when you take them off yourself,” he finished with a sly smile spreading across his face.

“Just get on with it,” Louis snarled back.

“Eager are we this morning Number 7. Are you going to tell me your name this time pretty boy?” he teased, and _God_ he was fucking creepy.

“I don’t want my name coming out of your filthy mouth.”

“Oh I see,” he said approaching Louis, putting his face inches away from the boy’s, “do you want to put something else of yours in my mouth?”

“Fuck off,” Louis said spitting in the man’s face.

“Well I gave it a try,” he sighed turning on his heels, “Leeches for this one today!”

Three of his cronies entered the room, each with a bucket in hand. Louis knew the drill at this point. He lay down on the single table, as the leeches were poured onto his naked body. He was numb to the pain by now. It didn’t hurt when he felt the slimy bugs being sporadically spread over his tanned skin. It didn’t hurt when he felt the prickling feeling of the insects sucking through his skin for the blood. It didn’t even faze him when he felt his self-drift in and out of consciousness from the blood loss. For some reason, that day, he felt the tears flow out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He wasn’t in pain, or upset, or angry. He was just done. Done with this camp. Done with this place. Done with having hope. Before he knew it, the leeches were being pulled off his body, leaving their marks, and he was being sent out into the courtyard to regain his strength.

Louis knows it’s a bad idea, knows it will tear him apart even more, but he does it anyways. Whenever he gets time alone in the camp’s courtyard, he goes to the spot where wildflowers grow sparsely amongst the infertile terrain. He sits near the area picking up a single flower from the patch. It looks so delicate in it’s surroundings and the memories of the first day he met his delicate flower race behind his eyes: the flowers in his hair, the lone flower he placed in his gun, the flowers in a halo around him in his bed. The flowers are Harry, and though it seems pathetic and much too hopeful for even him, it makes him feel as if Harry is with him. He tucks the flower in his pocket and returns to his cabin. The worst part of it all is at night when he lies in bed, he retrieves the flower from his pocket and watches it wilt away in his hand. When he wakes up, the flower lies lifeless beside him. He finds it to be a sick metaphor for the hope that one day Harry will be in his arms again, but just as the flower fades, so does Louis’ hope.

 

April 30th, 1975

Louis woke up to a trill of gunshots outside his cabin. He heard heavy footsteps coming closer and closer. There was a constant banging on the door until it fell to the ground unable to resist the 20 American soldiers that burst through.

“Louis Tomlinson?” the front man spoke.

“Yes! Yes! That’s me,” he nearly shouted bounding out of bed.

“You’re out of here. Let’s go.”

“But how…” Louis stammered.

“Fall of Saigon, wars over,” he said, putting a hand on Louis shoulder and leading him to the jeep.

 

He was going home. Louis was going home. He was going to see Harry. He was going back. An array of emotion engulfed him the whole way back to the camp.

After two hours of driving through the humid air of Vietnam, they finally arrived at the camp. All the soldiers crowded at the entrance welcoming back the six that survived. They were pampered, fed, and treated like kings. Louis felt on top of the world, but the only thing on his mind was _HarryHarryHarry._ He had to get back. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Listen up! Listen up! You men have served our country well. We are all proud of your determination, bravery, and courage. We honor the men who did not make it as well as the ones who did,” General Payne announced over the camp, “In good news. All privates and lower ranked soldiers along with the nurses will be released to leave tomorrow morning. Your flights are set and ready to go. The six people rescued today will be ushered to the hospital immediately after landing in San Francisco. Goodnight every one and it is a good day to be an American soldier!”

 

 

 

 

 

May 1, 1975 11:00 PM

 

It’d become routine by now. Harry would wake up, shoot up, crash, sleep, repeat. He’d lost count of the days since Louis’ reply. He didn’t trust himself with his own mind. That’s what the drugs were for, to crowd his brain with other thoughts, to take him out of himself. He always said every hit would be his last, but he was only lying to himself. After he injected himself the first time, the feeling was never the same. He had to up the dose every time to get higher than before after a while he gave up and moved on to the next drug. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the apartment. It was Louis’, and he was safe in there. It was the only thing he had left of him.

Harry was actually sober for once since the day he heard about the ambush. He’d become very cynical, not the same chipper boy he once was. He knew it. He knew his curls weren’t as bouncy, his skin not as flushed, his smile not as bright. He sat on the couch of the living room, hunched over the little table prepping his hit for the day. The white lines reminded him of the streets. The infinite white lines that kept the roads orderly, directing the traffic and the people. He laughed at the similarity with the two. These white lines kept him sane, orderly, and directed his life down one path. His hands shook while he cut up the crystalline pieces to powder. He swore this hit would be his last, and it would be. It would end right here. He stared at the three lines before him fighting back his cries because who was going to help him? No one was there anymore. It was Harry and his high. His high is what kept him here and his high was going to get him out.

One, two, three, lines down. He could feel his brain going into overload. Hot red liquid gathered at the top of his lip, dripping off his chin. “This is it,” he thought collapsing onto the sofa.

 

May 1, 1975 11:15 PM

Harry told Zayn to be at his house by 11:00 PM, but he couldn’t find his damn hairbrush and he wasn’t leaving the house until he was presentable. After all, he had a cliental to keep up.

“Harry! Open up!” Zayn yelled, knocking on the door for the 5th time, “Oh for fucks sake. I’m coming in!”

The apartment gave off an eerie vibe. Zayn couldn’t hear Harry or any living soul upon entering, “Harry…you there?” he asked to the open air.

It was a nice apartment, but it was completely trashed. Zayn saw the pile of dishes in the sink, wrappers littered all over the floor, burnt out light bulbs, and bent spoons were placed in random places of the counter. He saw clothes strewn across the floor, empty bottles in a row, a leg dangling off the sofa. _Shitshitshitshit._  
“Harry is that you?” he asked not expecting an answer. Zayn rounded the couch to see Harry’s body sprawled on the couch, blood encrusted on his lips and chin, staining his shirt. _Fucking shit._ He knew Harry had asked for a lot when he met him earlier, but he didn’t think he would do it all at once. He ran for the phone to call 911, hoping it wasn’t to late.

 

 

 

May 2, 1975 1:00 AM

“Okay Mr.Tomlinson, I’m going to leave you here in the hallway with the other men while I get the rooms sorted,” the petite blonde nurse said, “and thanks for all that you did for our country.”

“It’s my job,” Louis responded stretching his legs out on the hospital bed.

It had only been a couple of hours since the plane landed and the men were taken to the hospital. Now that he was home, his mind was at ease. He may not have seen Harry, but he knew he could speak to him. He tried calling the apartment as soon as he landed, but no one picked up. It was late, so he figured he’d try again in the morning if he hadn’t been released yet.

“MAKE WAY! CLEAR THE HALLS!”

Louis jostled as someone pushed forward his bed in response. He sat up to see what the commotion was about. The white double doors of the ER burst open, and a pale body was being pushed on a gurney towards him. His heart stopped when he saw the boy’s blood stained face, inked skin underneath his ripped shirt, dark hair matted to his head, his long legs almost spilling over the gurney, and _fuck_ did all of those things remind him of Harry. It’s all he got to see before the boy was whisked into the room a few feet down from his position in the hall.

“CLEAR. Thud. CLEAR. Thud. CLEAR. Thud.”

“I don’t think it’s going to work Doctor. We did that on the way over and no luck.”

“Fine fine. Get the pump and the needle. We’ll try to take out some of his blood or filter his blood stream. Might pump his stomach. Might need a transfusion.”

“On it.”

“I don’t know if he’ll make it but we did what we could. Keep him hooked up, and we’ll check in the morning.”

Louis sat outside that room for what seemed like hours. He tried to pick up every word said and every possible breath he could hear. The small sliver of hope that he would finally see Harry again now that he returned was diminishing right in front of him. He could hear the boy he loves slipping away forever. The worst part was that he didn’t even get to say goodbye, and as far as Harry knew, Louis could’ve been dead already. Harry was right in front of him. He needed him. Harry was what kept him here, and Harry is what helped him survive. He knew crying wouldn’t bring him back, but he just couldn’t fight it anymore. He broke down on his hospital bed, sending silent prayers that his Harry would come back to him.

He doesn’t know how long he was in that hall waiting and hoping, but the tears finally stopped and the nurse finally released him. It was the moment of truth. Louis walked through the main door of the hospital up to the front desk.

“What can I help you with?” the receptionist questioned.

“Umm Harry Styles?”

“Admitted a few hours ago.”

“Relation?”

“Umm, brother.”

“Right. Through those doors, second room on the right. C124.”

 

 

May 2, 1975 3:00 AM

Harry wasn’t dead. He knew he wasn’t dead, but he was stuck. He couldn’t fucking wake up. His mind was still going. It was running a mile a minute. He could feel his thoughts on a never-ending tangent absorbing his skull. He couldn’t bring himself to snap out of it though. Shit. He couldn’t even feel the majority of his body. He always thought he would go out in a dramatic way though, fighting for a cause or some bold attempt to prove his love for someone. He would’ve never imagined that he’d be lying on a hospital bed trying to choose between life and death after a drug overdose. 3 lines? Who does that shit anyway?

Harry could feel a presence in his room. Even though he wasn’t technically awake, it was like all his senses were heightened or maybe that’s because he hadn’t been sober for this long in a long while. He waited for some doctor to poke and prod and adjust his IV, but there was none of that. He knew someone was there though, hovering over his bed. He could feel the hot breath and steady breathing level with his body. A trembling hand encompassed his lifeless one.

“This is all my fault. I should’ve been there for you. I shouldn’t have left, and now look at you. What if you don’t come back? What the hell am I going to do then?”

This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening.

“I love you so much. Being trapped and tortured and the thought of never seeing you ever again made me realize I love you so much. Baby, please wake up for me. Just do something.”

Harry was hallucinating. Dreaming. Louis was dead. He was killed in the ambush. He was sure of it. He couldn’t be back _nonono_. Harry wanted to wake up, wanted so bad to see for himself if it was truly Louis or if it was his mind playing sick tricks on him, but he couldn’t. What if he woke up and it wasn’t him? What if it was all a hoax to bring him back to reality? He couldn’t risk that. He wanted to die. Louis was dead and he wanted to be with him. He couldn’t screw this up.

“Harry, baby, can you hear me? Please come back to me please.”

He could feel the tears hitting his hand. His could feel lips on his knuckles, attempting to kiss him awake. He could hear the desperation in the voice pleading to him. He had to know. He couldn’t hold out any longer. He allowed his thumb to squeeze around the fingers that grasped his hand tight. He felt the body near him jump, and he could hear a heart beginning to race.

“Harry, are you up? Harry!”

He could feel kisses all over his cheeks, and eyelids, and lips, peppering down his neck and the back of his hands. He hesitantly opened his eyes, hoping it wasn’t all an illusion.

“Louis?” he croaked out at the sight of the boy in front of him, hollow cheeks, sunken eyes, paled skin, and lifeless hair sat on the top of his head. He didn’t know what Louis had been through, but it made his stomach twist. _His Louis_ in that fucking war. It destroyed him. It sucked the life right out of him. It dimmed his light, and made him bleak. It took everything that was _so_ Louis away from him.

“Yes. It’s me. Harry it’s me. I’m here.”

“Don’t call the Doctor’s yet. Just stay with me.”

Harry tugged on his arm, pulling Louis into his hospital bed. He felt heat surround him. He knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, but he needed Louis as close as possible. He had gone years without him, and now that he was back he didn’t want him to leave his side. Ever.

 

 

May 2, 1975 4:00 PM

 

  _Dear Harry,_

_If you’re reading this, I’m assuming you’ve made it back. Ummm. I’m glad you’re able to still read this. Well to be honest I feel like complete shit about this whole thing. I knew you were messed up, but fuck I didn’t think you would off yourself holy shit kid. Yeah, I can’t give you anything anymore. Just too risky, I can’t have a death on my hands. Hopefully, you resolve whatever was tearing you up. I might have sort of cleaned up your apartment a bit because it was complete shit y’know and I didn’t want people assuming things so yeah welcome back._

_Stay sober you fucker,_

_Zayn_

 

May 6, 1975 8:00 PM

 

Harry had been fucking stupid. He almost ruined everything and he knew it, but Louis didn’t hold it against him. Louis never blamed him. Louis only nurtured, cared, and loved him. Louis did everything for him. Louis was everything. Harry looked down at his soldier, who was nestled in the curvature of his torso, stroking his chestnut hair, and snuggling his face into it.

“Lou,” he spoke softly.

“Yeah H.”

“Do you ever want to talk about it?”

“About what babe?” Louis questioned turning over to look up the green-eyed boy surrounding him.

“War?” he answered with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah sometimes, but I know you don’t like it though. I don’t want to put that on you.”

“I know. I know. But these past few nights when you’re sleeping, you scream and shout for them to let you go and you toss and turn and sweat. It’s scary babe. I just want to help you.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Louis look at me,” Harry said gazing down into his pool like eyes, “I want to be here for you like you are for me. Tell me.”

“Well if you’re sure. Okay well at first it honestly wasn’t that bad. We’d go out and patrol and just survey the lands mainly. Hold down the camp. Every night we would rest in our bunks back inside the camp and that’s how it was for a couple of months. Finally, we got called out onto a mission led by General Payne, who’s more of a pain in this ass than anything,” Harry giggled at the pun. “Anyways, we were out for a few days and then we got fucking ambushed. It all happened so quickly and I just remember running, and running, and running, until I couldn’t run anymore. Out of nowhere this guy attacked me and I was fighting back. I almost had him too. He was right under me. I had the gun jabbed into his chest about to pull the trigger.”

Harry tensed as Louis paused in the story. He didn’t think he could listen to this. He couldn’t imagine his Louis, soft and delicate, being malicious and vengeful. He remembers how Louis held the empty barrel to his chest all those years ago; even then his eyes were soft and non-threatening. He knew he couldn’t hurt a fly.

“And then…?”

Louis’ eyes seemed as if they were playing back the memory frame by frame, “Then I remembered you. I remember how I held the gun to your chest, and how you saw right through my façade. That stupid fucking flower you put in the gun barrel,” he says laughing lightheartedly at the thought. “You were so beautiful even then. Oh, look at you. You’ve got me all off track. So I couldn’t do it and he overpowered me and threw me in the truck with the others that survived the attack. We were all sent to a camp, a shitty one at that. We were barely fed, tortured, taunted, you name it. The torture was the worst. I could endure it when I was alone, but when they would torture me, I didn’t think I would make it another day.”

Harry brought the shaking boy closer to him, wrapping his long arms around the smaller boy’s waist, “It’s okay Lou. You’re safe babe,” he reassured kissing the top of his head, “You’re with me. You’re good.”

“I know. I know. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Only if you want.”

“Yeah okay so they would torture me. Most of the time they would just tie me up and get the townspeople to throw shit at me. When they felt like personally delivering the pain, they would just put leeches all over me and watch them literally suck the life out of me. They would be all over Harry. I could feel them sucking on every inch of my naked body. It was the hardest thing to just lie there and do nothing. I just wanted to give up, so many times, but I made it through and it’s all because of you.

“But…how? I wasn’t even there. I couldn’t even write you. I was useless.”

“Don’t say that baby. You were with me the whole time. Every day I would get a little time to walk about the prison we were in. In the furthest corner of the yard there was a sparse area of grass that had a few flowers growing. Whenever I needed, I could take one of those flowers and it’s like you were there with me the whole time. I know it sounds dumb, but flowers and you go hand in hand for me.”

Harry was dumbfounded. He didn’t understand what he did to deserve someone as great as this. It was worth it. Every day of hurt was worth it. Every year was worth it. He rolled himself over to hover over Louis and take in all his features. It’d only been a couple of days but his light was back. He could see the glow in his skin returning, the wicked smile, the definition in his cheekbones, and the glint in his eyes. Harry truly believed he could stare at him and never get bored. He would be very content if he could stare at him forever.

“You’re incredible,” he said, placing kisses on the older boy’s cheeks, trailing down his neck, to his bare chest, “I’m going to take care of you baby.”

“Please,” Louis whispered barely audible. He didn’t know he needed this, but he did. He missed Harry’s large hands exploring his body. It’d been three years since he’d had his touch.

He kissed down to Louis’ hip, licking then sucking the skin. He toyed with the waistband of Louis pajamas, while he palmed him through the cotton material, “I missed you so much Lou,” Harry said into the boy’s hip, pulling his pants and boxers down at once. He took hold of Louis cock, giving it a few tugs before placing kisses up his shaft and tonguing the slit, kitten licking the tip innocently, staring up dough-eyed into his lover’s eyes.

“Harry…”Louis warned as the teasing became to much.

He took the boy into his mouth, sloppily sucking and licking every inch of his cock like he’d never get the opportunity again. His curls hung in front of his face while his head bobbed in front of the boy. The hand holding Louis hip disappeared causing him his thrust to hit the back of Harry’s throat. He hollowed his cheeks, letting Louis fuck into his mouth. His gags resonated around Louis cock. Harry ignored the tears threatening to fall and let a breath out his nose

“Harry I’m…”he started to say just as Harry pulled off him.

“Turn around,” he ordered softly.

Coming down, Louis complied reluctantly. He felt Harry’s swollen lips kissing over his shoulder, sucking and licking down the curvature of his spine. He stopped at the dip before Louis ass, “Your ass is so perfect babe,” he said taking a cheek in each of his hands, “love it so much.” 

Harry spread his cheeks to nuzzle his tongue in-between them. He lapped at Louis tight hole over and over until the boy was writhing beneath him. He licked into him, pushing through the tight ring of muscles and reaching his hand up for him to suck on his two fingers. Harry pushed one finger in along with his tongue feeling inside the boy, licking and crooking his finger in synch.

“Yes, Harry, moremoremore,” Louis barely choked out, tears stinging his eyes.

Harry added another finger along side the one working with his tongue. He pulled back allowing his two fingers to work themselves inside Louis. He scissored them with fervor, hitting that spot that had Louis crying out for him.

“Harry…hurry, need you,”

“Yeah okay babe,” Harry assured fumbling for the lube and coating himself liberally, “Turn on your back so I can see your pretty flushed cheekbones.”

Harry guided his already leaking cock into Louis who relaxed at his entrance. Harry slow pushed himself until he was fully sheathed in the boy beneath him. They locked eyes as Louis told him to move. Harry hadn’t felt this good in a very very very long time. Louis was his ultimate high. No hit, no line, no drug could give him this feeling. Nothing compared to the euphoria Louis’ body could give him. Every dose and any dose was enough to have his head spinning.

Louis wrapped his legs around the younger boy’s torso pulling him deeper into him. “Fuck harry _yesyesyes_ ,” he babbled. His body was surrounded in Harry. It was overwhelming. He never thought he’d get this again. He was enveloped in Harry’s body hovering over him, biting down into his shoulder as he thrusted into him slow and deep. It was beautiful. It was passionate. Louis could feel everything Harry could ever want to say.

Harry knew how to love. Harry specialized in love. All Harry did was love and give love. He didn’t know what to say to make Louis forget. He could only use his body to make Louis forget. He connected their lips, sucking on Louis bottom lip, bringing them closer. He could feel that Louis was close. His breath was becoming erratic and he couldn’t hold back his moans and whispers. Harry reached for Louis’ cock, sitting heavy against his stomach, and lightly ran his fingers up and down his length.

“Harry,” he said shakily, “Got to come, need to come.”

“Me too baby,” Harry cooed speeding up his rhythm hitting Louis prostate with each thrust, “Come for me Lou,” he breathed against his ear causing them both to moan out at their release.

Harry stoked Louis through his orgasm, leaving them both panting into the crook of each other’s necks.

“Wow that was…” Louis began before Harry interrupted him with a sweet gentle kiss, while he quickly cleaned them up.

“I know baby,” Harry whispered, brushing a soft feathery strand of hair out of Louis’ face.

Harry held the back of Louis’ head, laying them both on their sides, deepening their kiss. Harry wraps his arms around his lover’s waist, pulling him in as close as possible. They cling to each other for hours, making up for all the years they lost together. Louis is finally home in Harry’s arms, the place he feels safest. He is finally safe. For the first time since he had arrived home, he wasn’t thinking about the war, or the camp, or all the horrible memories engraved in his mind. All that matters is the boy that is protecting him, and he knows he never wants to be anywhere else.

 

July 15th, 1976

It’d been a year since the war was over. It’d been a year since Louis was let go. It’d been a year since the overdose. It’d been year since Louis got Harry back and Harry got Louis back. It’d been a year since Harry showed Louis his best remedy for any type of pain. Nothing had changed since then. They only grew. They grew as people. They grew together. Time only allowed them to lose themselves in each other, and the separation made them not take their time together for granted.

Harry imagined it would be like this, but he didn’t know how extreme it could be. Harry didn’t know love could be so consuming. He thought those extreme feelings only happened in the awful romantic comedies he loved to watch. He never believed another person’s happiness could dictate his. Even if that person’s happiness stemmed from something that drove him mad. That another person’s dreams, no matter how opposite, would be his dreams. That another person’s struggles would be his struggles. Louis proved him wrong. Louis always proved him wrong. He didn’t know if it was his soft eyes, which captured him from the very first day. He didn’t know if it was his feathery chestnut hair, twinkling blue eyes, or his dainty wrists and ankles that were offset by the curve of his thighs, hips, and ass. Come to think of it. Harry did know what it was. It was Louis’ selflessness. It was Louis’ need to make everyone happy and to protect everyone before he protects himself. Or maybe it was all of those things and other things that made Louis drive Harry mad. Louis made Harry feel alive, whole, and complete.

Yeah, Louis might have been quite cynical at the start. He’d always been cynical though. He knew good never lasted. That was the whole point of war right? Peace was good, but it never lasted? War brought back that peace. Somehow war was what demolished the peace he briefly had. Peace personified as an enchanting flower child with a mop of dark curls, smooth milky skin, sparkling emerald eyes, and a softness that resembled the flower that he was. He didn’t know what he was getting into when he let his defenses down with him, but he’s glad that he did. He’s glad he allowed Harry to soften him up. Harry taught him how to truly be brave, fearless, and strong. He taught him how to stand for what you want even if no one is standing with you. Harry was beautiful, beautiful to look at, beautiful to touch, beautiful to be with. Most importantly, he was beautiful on the inside. He made Louis all he never knew he wanted to be. He made Louis the best man he could be.

 


End file.
